


Kiss the Boys and Make them Cry

by SweetSorcery



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Humor, Jealousy, Kissing, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-10
Updated: 2011-08-10
Packaged: 2017-10-22 11:24:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/237526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetSorcery/pseuds/SweetSorcery
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Draco suggests an experiment, but he isn't altogether prepared for the results.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Kiss the Boys and Make them Cry

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: All canon referred to within belongs to JK Rowling, Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books, Raincoast Books, Warner Bros. Inc., and possibly others. Non-canon bits were created for non-profit, non-infringement entertainment.
> 
> Archiving: Nowhere except here, and not in translated form either.
> 
> Author's Notes: This was written in December 2009.  
> It's one of those fluffy school days fics where no one remembers there's a war on. Also, there's unrequittedness and sore jaws. Poor Ron.

"Well, might as well get this over with," Draco said haughtily, as if the whole thing had not been his idea to begin with. He glanced back and forth between the other two occupants of the unused classroom, looking just bored enough to ensure they knew he could be doing a dozen other things just then.

Harry was half-sitting on the edge of a desk, his eyes lowered and arms crossed as he chewed his lips, while Ron was standing by the door as if considering to bolt. With a snort, Draco challenged, "What's the matter? Has that famed Gryffindor courage buggered off?"

"You wish, Malfoy." Harry did his best to imitate the sneer, but he wasn't nearly Slytherin enough for that, despite those persistent rumours about his almost-sorting. "If anyone here is likely to get scared, it's you." Which was, of course, not true, as Malfoy had approached him about this in the first place.

Malfoy's exact words had been, _I want to know what it's like to kiss another bloke, and I've decided it should be you, Potter._ He had followed this up with an uncertain sneer and the almost complimentary statement, _I can't possibly ask a Slytherin; I need someone who'll keep it to himself._

Harry snorted. He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes. "This is totally weird, you realise."

Draco raised an eyebrow at him. "Potter, this wouldn't be half as weird if you hadn't decided to throw the Weasel into the mix."

"Hey!" Ron protested. "I'm right here."

"Don't I know it," Draco drawled. "Why _are_ you here, Weasley?"

Ron narrowed his eyes at him. "I'm here because of Harry."

Draco chuckled. "I bet you are." He gave Harry a sleazy grin. "I always thought your pet weasel had a crush on you, Potter. I guess this was too good a chance to pass up."

Ron moved towards him, flushed with either anger or embarrassment, and probably a freshly twanged nerve or two. "Shut up, Malfoy."

"Ron, don't," Harry sighed.

"Make me, Weasley." Draco grinned. "So eager. Are you volunteering to go first?" Ron stumbled back as if he'd hit an invisible wall, and Draco burst out laughing.

Both Harry and Ron stared at him, shocked by the sound. Ron with suspicion, and Harry with some nameless, wide-eyed emotion.

"What?" Draco asked, self-consciously, once again serious. "Look. We're here to satisfy what I gather to be a curiosity we all share, right?"

Harry nodded reluctantly, while Ron just muttered something under his breath.

"Right. Now that we're agreed..." Draco frowned, tapping an elegant finger against his chin. "Could be interesting to see how our dynamics affect the test results." When this was met with confused looks, he sighed. "Oh, for-- Let's compare the effect of mutual loathing and--" He sneered at Ron and mocked, "feeeelings, I guess, on a kiss."

"Get to the point, Malfoy." Harry narrowed his eyes at him.

"My point is - you two like each other. The Weasel and I hate each other. And Potter, you and I... well, we hate each other too," he finished lamely. "Anyway, you two start. If neither one of you dies from shock or trauma, I'll give it a try."

"Always knew you were a coward," Ron declared triumphantly. "Um... Harry?" he asked, hesitantly.

Harry smiled at him, uncrossed his arms, and said, "Go ahead, Ron."

Draco rolled his eyes and hopped up onto the desk behind Potter, leaning on his hands and proceeding to watch in close-up what obviously passed for a mating ritual in Gryffindor. He suppressed his snickers as he watched Ron approach Harry and cup his shoulders in a friendly, buddy kind of way, before leaning in with closed eyes and lips pursed exaggeratedly. Harry was moving towards him slowly, eyes squeezed tightly shut as well, and after a couple of misses with Ron's mouth landing first on his cheek and then his chin, they were kissing. Or something like it. Draco snorted softly as he watched their mouths moving cautiously against their counterparts, soft pecks being placed on lips which stayed firmly closed at all times. When he could take it no more, he threw his arms up and jumped off the desk, sending them both flying apart with guilty and very embarrassed expressions.

"Enough!" he called out. "Merlin, this is like watching puppies tumble about in a field of poppies. Ugh!"

Ron glared, while Harry chewed his freshly kissed lips and gave him a confused look.

"What the hell was wrong with it?" Ron demanded.

"Let me show you, Weasley." And Draco grabbed his collar, which he was certain he could feel ripping in his grasp. 'Stupid cheap rags,' he thought, and pulled him in, smashing their lips together hard enough to make Harry wince in sympathy where he stood off to the side.

Ron repaid him for the attack with interest, and there was as much biting going on as kissing. They drew apart in a matter of seconds - a few very painful seconds - to glare at each other.

"Is that your idea of a kiss, Weasley? Breaking your partner's teeth?" Malfoy sneered, rubbing his jaw.

Ron was flushed with anger. "If you're my partner, you're bloody well right it is. And I wouldn't call what you did kissing either."

Harry sighed. "Well, I was fine with the way Ron kissed me," he chimed in. "Give me a try then, Malfoy."

Draco, no longer so sure of himself, though strangely intrigued by Potter's wording, nodded.

Harry reached out to loosely rest his hands on the taller boy's waist and tilted his face up challengingly.

Draco blinked. He hadn't really considered the touching issue until he felt Potter's too warm hands through his thin shirt, but he figured it would be good form to play along, so he took him by his upper arms and pulled him up to stand. When this earned him a raised eyebrow, he covered his uncertainty by threatening, "You break my teeth, and I'll break your arms."

Harry smirked, and Draco, thinking that really was his own personal domain, moved in to kiss that smirk off those unworthy lips. And then things went very strange, because that smirk felt like a smile against his lips, and how could you even feel someone else's smile? And why should it feel so good? In fact, why should kissing Potter feel good at all? He increased the pressure, not wanting to let on that anything was wrong and knowing Potter was expecting him to use force. After all, they hated each other.

Potter pressed back, but to avoid damage to anyone's teeth, and noses for that matter, he tilted his head so their lips were a better fit, and suddenly, it felt much, much more the way a kiss is supposed to feel.

The surprise made Draco's heartbeat speed up, and he knew Potter was having a bit of a shock too, because he made a strange yelping sound. Which parted his lips against Draco's and seemed to actually soften them.

'In for a knut, in for a galleon,' Draco thought, and fitted his lips to Potter's better, intensifying the kiss rather than just to push harder. He'd show Potter who was better at this!

Moments later, he couldn't remember too clearly what he was showing him, however, because he felt an insistent, moist probing between his lips and realized, Sweet Merlin, that was Potter's tongue! Before he could decide how he felt about that, it had already forced its way into his mouth.

Pushy bloody Gryffindor, Draco thought, and stabbed his own tongue back against it. Except it slid alongside Potter's, and Potter moaned... _moaned_ into his mouth, and Draco felt a rush of power no argument with Potter had ever given him. The whole thing felt so obscenely good, Draco was almost willing to admit that some of Potter's ideas might have merit. The tongue, for one thing, and... and those hands sliding around his waist and up his back, burning him through his shirt. He gripped Potter's arms tighter, to hold himself upright more than anything of course, and maybe to make sure Potter wouldn't move away just yet. He still wasn't sure how he felt about this kissing business, and it needed to be established one way or the other. Because it was unsettling. He hadn't counted on not wanting it to stop.

As if that thought had somehow transferred itself to Potter and given him stupid ideas, he started to draw back, but Draco was having none of that. He pulled the Gryffindor hard against himself, one hand buried in that messy mop of hair, ready to tear it out should the fool try to leave just then.

There was a scuffing of shoes somewhere nearby, and footsteps hurrying closer. Weasley, trying to rescue Potter, Draco thought dimly. He licked against the roof of Potter's mouth.

A low moan made it all the way from Potter's throat into Draco's chest, where it did a strange dance. But that was okay, because it had worked. The steps stopped at once, and no one was taking Potter away from him. And more importantly, he wasn't going anywhere of his own accord either, except to try and crawl inside Draco; or maybe draw Draco into himself, because he was sucking on his tongue now, hard. And it was Draco's turn to moan.

"I'll just... err..." Ron gulped, walking backwards to the door and fumbling behind his back for the knob, still staring in horrified fascination at the display until the very last moment before the door barred his sight.

Harry's muffled cry when Draco moved the hand not buried in his hair between them was the last thing Ron heard before the lock clicked shut. He ran down the hallway, swiping at his nose and cheeks with his sleeve.

 

THE END


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